


The Replacement Telepath and his Personal Santa

by WhyMrSpook



Series: Worldly Contributions [2]
Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: 12 Days of Christmas, Alternate Universe - Mob, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Christmas Fluff, M/M, Mob Boss Erik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-09 21:33:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8912893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyMrSpook/pseuds/WhyMrSpook
Summary: “You have tinsel in your hair.” Erik responded, fingers winding through Charles’ head lazily.“I’m your Christmas present this year, didn’t you know?”“That’s terrible- I got that last year, too.”





	1. Welcoming December

“Charles! It’s barely even December yet, this is ridiculous.”

Charles looked down from a height he hadn’t anticipated and quickly looked up again. The stool he stood on wobbled precariously on the stacks of books he’d placed beneath the legs to elevate it, and he threw the last of the fairy lights across the top Christmas tree, hoping it wouldn’t look too terrible when it was done.

“No. You specifically said that I had to wait for December. Well, I waited. And now I get to decorate.” He told the branches of the tree, half of his brain dedicated to working out how he was going to get down without falling. Erik seemed to have adopted his powers- as though reading his mind, he appeared behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist to help him down from the make-shift ladder.

“You’re a menace, and I should have left you in your own apartment.” Erik spoke without malice; he loved Charles far too much for that. But Charles could sense a quiet coolness lurking beneath his smile. It wasn’t intended for Charles- Erik was just in a bad mood and, judging from his suit, there was a reason.

“Too late now, darling. Are you going out to deal with something-?”

“No. Already dealt with.” The mob boss placed a kiss against Charles’ temple and then moved to the sofa, pulling his suit jacket off with an uncharacteristic disregard for neatness as he threw it onto the chair. Charles followed, sitting next to him and watching him closely, waiting for an explanation.

“Alex saw his mother today.”

“What?!” Alex, who had known Erik since he was a kid himself, who had come from such an awful home and who had once been so incredibly angry.

“He’s fine. Apparently she was drinking in the same bar. Azazel was with him and teleported him into my office.” The tired element in Erik’s tone was enough to suggest to Charles what had happened next. “It’s a good job I put those metal plates in.” Erik remarked anyway. An angry Alex was never good, but Charles couldn’t imagine what seeing his own mother would have done to the twenty-year old. He was still just a kid, really. Charles didn’t even know how _he’d_ react if he saw his own mother tomorrow. Probably scream until he passed out.

“I remind you that most people don’t require shields in their place of work.” He said, dryly.

“You have tinsel in your hair.” Erik responded, blatantly ignoring his point, fingers winding through Charles’ head lazily.

“I’m your Christmas present this year, didn’t you know?”

“That’s terrible- I got that last year, too.”

Charles laughed, gently punching Erik’s army so that the man finally cracked a proper smile and reclined further into the sofa, pulling Charles in closer. It wasn’t often Erik was emotionally drained- he was made of steel in most respects, but he cared deeply about Alex and it wasn’t surprising that seeing the younger man in pain had taken it out of him.

_Alex is fine, Charles, I made sure of it. He’s with Hank. Scott’s staying with us this weekend, by the way. I thought they might appreciate some time alone, and Scott keeps saying he’s had enough of Edie for a lifetime._

_He’ll regret that when he’s older._

“I still can’t say I blame him though.” Erik responded aloud, smirking. He was lying, of course. He loved Edie more than anyone, but she was a hearty personality and a lot to take in for a long period of time. In fairness, Scott had spent most of his childhood there before he was able to properly move in with his brother and Hank a few months before.

“You’re awful, dear. I’m going to make tea, and then we should make the most of the afternoon before there’s a child keeping us up all hours.”

“He’s not exactly an infant, Charles, and we do live the entirety of her lives without children around. You’re not going to be sex-deprived forever.”

“You don’t know that. Scott loves me, what if he never wants to go home?” Charles teased, winking as he slipped from Erik’s arms and made his way into the kitchen. There, he spotted the light in the oven and felt a heat radiating from the glass. “Oh, shit.”

“What is it?” Erik called.

“I forgot my cookies in the oven. Never mind. There’s still a while to try and make them.”

“Wonderful.”

* * *

“Are you sure he’s going to be alright on the sofa. It does get chilly in there at night.” Charles wasn’t fretting, necessarily, but he didn’t trust that Erik would think about these things so he chose to on his behalf.

“Charles, he knows where the heating is and how to put it on.” Erik replied, only feigning boredom, from their en-suite. It was ridiculous, really, that the mob boss only had a one-bedroom apartment. Large and luxurious though it was, it had apparently never occurred to Erik that he might have a guest who would require a bed of their own. It was only lucky that Scott, tonight’s guest, was still relatively small and so was quite happy on the sofa.

“What if Raven ever wants to stay the night?” It was unlikely to happen. Whilst she wasn’t on bad terms with Erik, she still seemed as though she didn’t want to get close to him. It was a shame, really. Before she’d found out that he was the head of a crime syndicate, they’d gotten on rather well.

“Raven is never in the country long enough to stay the night; even if I did trust her to without slitting my throat while I was sleeping.” Erik remarked dryly. He padded out of the bathroom and undressed; Charles watching from under the covers quite happily. Erik truly did have an impressive physique, and an infuriatingly beautiful face. He conveyed his feelings to his boyfriend and smirked at the flush that spread down Erik’s body.

_I wouldn’t let her touch a hair on your pretty head, my darling._

“You’re the worst, Charles.”

Erik’s body was cool as he slipped into bed, but Charles didn’t complain and let limbs wrap around him like they were pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. They fit together, just right. He almost couldn’t imagine how life had been before Erik. The night before they met had comprised of phoning Raven and not being able to reach her, and then going to bed at ten to read himself to sleep. Not that much had changed, really. But now he had Erik to go to bed with, and a job he found engaging and challenging. Life was better. He was happier; less lonely.

“You’re projecting you know.”

“I know.” Charles smiled when he felt Erik press a kiss to his hairline.


	2. An Assassin

The first week of December had passed by in a glance. Charles watched the gentle snow-fall from the window of his office. He was supposed to be writing up notes for one of his clients, lest he return back to work after the holidays to a mountain of paperwork. Still, he reminded himself, it was nothing compared to the excessive work he would have had to tackle if he still worked at the university. But the snow was pretty and the city was beautiful, as the sun began to set far too early for any productive work to continue.

In the office next to his, he could feel the gentle workings of Hank’s mind as he drew up plans for his latest mutant aid- a material that would allow touch and the sensation of skin on skin, but prevent the mutant in question’s power from hitting other people. It was a tricky one, and Hank was on his third design already. But he thrived on the challenge, and scribbled almost absently, mind bubbling and alive with thought processes too quick for his own hand to write down. Charles sympathised; his own research was equally as engaging currently- though that was all at home; done on those long nights where work kept Erik away from him.

His phone buzzed on his desk, and he reached for it instantly. Perhaps he was procrastinating, but he’d been at work since seven that morning and he’d barely even stopped for lunch yet. It was only a text anyway, and not urgent enough to warrant a reply.

_Hi Charles. I’m going to be home next weekend if you’re free to meet up. Oxford looks the same as ever, but lovely and decorated for Christmas. I have your present already. Travelling to France tonight. Raven xx_

No mention of Erik, again. It was almost as if she did it on purpose. He knew, saw in the furthest corners of her mind, a reluctant awe at him and the work he did for mutant kind. But she refused to get too close in spite of this. She had barely stopped travelling since the whole incident with Shaw last year and, though he missed her, he’d long since tried getting her to come home.

A pang of pain tore through his skull then, instant and sharp. His phone slipped from his fingers and onto the floor, the rubbery case thudding against the hardwood- though it was a sound he only registered distantly, too distracted by the aftermath of the pain. It was gone as quickly as it came, but he still felt it in his mind. Not as sharp, but a scratching sort of hurt. He thought – the terrifying idea struck him that it might have been a relapse of the bullet to the head last Christmas. But the pain of that had been a hundred-fold, and different. Not sharp, like this, but blunt and agonising.

He tested out his powers tentatively, reaching out past his usual boundaries. The realisation dawned on his instantly. Not him. It wasn’t his own pain. He felt Erik’s mind like a jewel glinting in the sun. Like lightning in a dark sky. Not Erik’s pain, either, though his boyfriend certainly wasn’t uninjured. He was joined by Azazel, from whom the pain had come, and Alex.

_Erik? What happened?_

_We had an accident._

_You’re going to have to be more specific, Erik-_

_Verdammt, Charles, you’re a mind-reader!_

Charles swore aloud, pacing his office. He hadn’t even realised he’d stood up until now. Deploying a surge of irritation to Erik, he delved further into the man’s mind and recalled the recent history. An accident indeed. An assassin, disguised as a waiter at a club Erik owned. Three dead, casualties of the battle, and Azazel, teleporting them away, left with a bullet tearing his skin. Thankfully, it was prevented from doing any serious damage by the familiar certainty of Erik’s power.

Charles stepped out of his office and into Hank’s without hesitation. “Get the first aid kit, Hank.” He instructed instantly.

_Who the hell sent an assassin? Where do all these enemies come from, Erik?_

_It’s rather - the nature of the business, Schatz._ Erik’s reply was angry and disjointed, distracted as the lift began to travel up to their floor. _I don’t know why you’re still so surprised by it._

“I don’t know how you manage to do so well for three months and then suddenly get shot at!” Charles snapped, as the lift doors opened and the three mobsters staggered out, looking rather worse for wear. Hank, thankfully, was rather more focused than he was. He helped Alex get Azazel to a seat in reception, whilst Charles only glowered at his boyfriend.

“If I told you every time someone tried to shoot me we’d never talk about anything else!”

Charles’ heart thundered. Everything around them was distant, but the shock and anger of both their minds. “What?” He asked, numbly. “And just how often do you get shot at, Erik?”

“I’m used to it.” Erik responded coldly. “I’ve been in this game a long time, Charles. You get used to it.”

“As wonderful as that is to hear, Erik, I do actually care whether or not you come home to me at the end of the day, so maybe drop the blasé attitude, for once.”

With that, Charles stormed back into his office and slammed the door shut behind him, blood hot in his head. He wanted to see if Azazel and Alex were both alright, and that Hank didn’t need any help. Instead, he flung himself down onto the sofa by his window and kicked his cushions needlessly. The snow continued to fall, and the world wasn’t quite as pretty anymore.

He was left to stew in his own self-righteous anger for no more than two minutes. His heart stopped racing and he cooled off, tears glassing his eyes over but not quite falling. He knew he was overreacting; it was the shock. They hadn’t even been seriously injured, and barely even hurt. It was just too close to home, and too close to the anniversary of the Shaw debacle.

Erik entered his office quietly, clicking the door shut behind him. His mind was guarded, something it so very rarely was anymore, but he wasn’t projecting anger. Charles looked to him, no guards at all. His face was an open book and, he hoped, it conveyed how scared he was. Not angry, not done, just scared to lose Erik.

Erik sighed heavily and strode to the sofa, momentarily professional, before he kicked his shoes off and sat beside him, arms open and willing. Charles leant into him instantly, tears rolling down his cheeks despite his many inner warnings for them not to. He knew he was being stupid. He trusted Erik to take care of himself- and he thoughts as much to Erik, who tightened his grip around him securely.

“I’m more careful now than I’ve ever been, Charles. You make me careful. I eradicate threats before they rise, mostly. I have twice the workforce that I did before, and I feel for metal more acutely than I ever have done before. I fully intend to come home to you every night for the rest of both our lives.”

The words soothed him more than he could have anticipated. The rest of their lives sounded good. He imagined them, all those days into months and years. The business, Erik’s family- now Charles, too, he felt, and their apartment watching over Erik’s empire. It wasn’t what he’d expected out of life, but it was somehow the most welcoming prospect he could think of now.

“Do you promise?” He said, anyway, inhaling deeply. Erik smelled of the city, but underlined with a crisp, sweet scent of some expensive aftershave. He remembered it from one of the first times they met, but now it was so much more than just a pleasant scent. It was home.

“Read my mind, Charles.”

_Of course I promise._


	3. Santa Mobster

“You did incredibly well today, Jean, I’m very proud of you.”

He didn’t need to be inside Jean’s head to see how pleased she was with his remark; her cheeks flushed with pink and her eyes glittered happily. She was in control of her own psychic powers enough to know he was sincere in his statement- the young girl truly had come a long way since starting her sessions with him.

Her mood altered almost instantly. Her smile faded and a nervous tension consumed her, making her sit up straighter in her seat. Erik had appeared behind him, at his office doorway.

The first time this had happened, he’d laughed in exasperation- he’d forgotten what Erik looked like to other people, specifically young children – how intimidating he must have seemed. The second time, he’d been irritated but still not concerned; Jean was psychic, after all, and so if Erik had been in a particularly scary, mobster mood she would of course have picked up on it. The third time, he’d made Erik sleep on the couch for a whole weekend- it was getting beyond a joke, and he wasn’t making an effort to be any less scary to the young girl. Erik hadn’t understood why it upset Charles so much and had stalked off to Edie’s until he’d finally gotten bored of being picked on by his employees and come home to apologise. If he continued to scare Charles’ clients, he’d have to think of something worse than death to make him pay. Maybe he’d get another teaching job at a university and forbid mob visits again.

On second thoughts, that would punish him just as much as it would Erik.

“Hello Jean.” Erik’s voice came quietly and though Charles’ didn’t turn around, he imagined his boyfriend looked particularly sleek today. He’d not seen him yet; having slept at Raven’s after a holiday sleepover. A beat passed. “Merry Christmas.” He said, as awkward and adorable as Charles thought he’d ever heard him.

Jean stilled slightly, eyes narrowing at the space behind Charles’ head where Erik presumably stood. Then, as though it was a Christmas miracle, she smiled. “Happy Christmas, Mr Lehnsherr.”

“I think our time is up, dear. I’ll see you in the New Year.” He said, somewhat bemusedly. Her sudden change in reaction was beyond his comprehension, but there wasn’t an ounce of fear left in the girl. She beamed at him, tugging her coat on and wishing him a merry Christmas before she bound from the room. He quickly turned his attention to his notes, jotting down his observations in detail to go in Jean’s folder.

When he was finished, Erik had moved into Jean’s vacated seat across from his desk. He was dressed in one of his nicest suits; dark grey with a navy tie that Charles had stolen on multiple occasions. But his hair, normally set neatly and positively begging to be mussed up, was hidden by a Santa hat. It was the most Christmassy red imaginable, bright and stark against a fluffy white trim.

“Oh.” He heard himself say, mouth falling open without permission from his brain. It wasn’t so much the hat – in itself, that was as funny as Erik had probably intended it to be – but Erik’s eyes were glinting with amusement and he looked exquisite.

“Happy Christmas, Schatz.”

“Now, darling, was this for my sake or for Jean’s? I’ve told you before, we don’t have to celebrate.”

“Happy December, then. And both, surely?” Erik snorted. “I have no intention of spending Christmas sleeping on Edie’s couch because you’ve kicked me out of my own home.” Charles tried his best to look stern, as if to say that was exactly what would happen if Erik stepped a toe out of line, but even he wasn’t that cruel. Edie truly did treat Erik like a teenager. Besides, he needed Erik to keep his warm on these cold winter nights. He moved around the desk towards his own personal Santa, perching on his lap and kissing him soundly.

“Hello, by the way. I missed you last night.”

“Hello.” Erik said. “I missed you too. How was it?”

“Not bad. Raven is planning a trip to England in the New Year. She spent half the night trying to convince me to come, which did dampen my Christmas spirits. Though her wine collection made up for it, eventually.” He teased, as Erik kissed his jawline slowly and sweetly.

“We can go to England, if you like.” The kissing stopped momentarily, and Erik’s breath was hot against his ear. “Anything you like.”

“You’re just saying that because you haven’t thought of what to get me for Christmas yet.” Which was fair enough; Charles hadn’t managed to get Erik anything for Christmas or his birthday the previous year, what with being kidnapped and held hostage just days before Christmas, and having his ankle broken by Erik’s arch-enemy.

“That’s what you think, oh telepath of mine.” Erik smiled, teasingly. “I’m serious, Charles. I could leave Janos or Azazel in charge for a few days, if you wanted. Anything you want, this Christmas.” Ah, Charles felt the realisation slowly. Erik was scared of a repeat of last year; of a Christmas lost to pain medication and agonising fear mixed with desperate relief that they were alive. Erik just wanted Charles to be safe and happy, _and_ he’d had put on a silly Santa’s hat just to get Jean to laugh. The man was the whole package, and ridiculously adorable.

“I just want you. You and your ridiculous family.” Out in the lobby, he could see Alex pretending to gag at them. “Oh piss off, Alex.” He called through the open door. “Hank’s gone to pick up your Christmas present, he’ll be back soon.”

“Thanks mom.” Came the sarcastic retort; Alex sauntering off out of eyes view.

“That boy’s going to get himself fired one of these days.”

“You say that every single time, darling.” Charles pointed out, amused. He knew as well as anyone that Erik lived for his team; and perhaps Alex and young Scott more so than anyone. His protective instinct towards them was so incredible, it baffled Charles that Erik managed to scare other children.

“Yes, well, one day I might mean it.” Erik replied blandly. “Come on, then. As pleasant as you sitting on my lap is, I did have other plans for today.”

“Really? Well, that _is_ a shame.”

“Hm. You can sit on my lap later, Liebling. For now, we really do need to go.”

Reluctant to head out into the cold, Charles grumbled complaints and forced Erik to pull his coat on – childlike as he tucked his arms into each sleeve. They moved to the lift, and Charles was actually surprised when Alex joined him. Alex hated being the third wheel. The only reason he’d join them so closely was as protection; which must have meant Erik truly was feeling threatened today.

“There’s a man balding man in the lobby wearing a blue suit.” Erik informed him as the lift moved, and there was a drop in Charles’ stomach which had nothing to do with the descent. “Let me know if he’s a threat.”

“Is he?” Erik would already know, of course. If he wasn’t a threat, he wouldn’t have even bothered asking for confirmation in the first place.

“Yes. But I don’t know to what extent.” The mob boss admitted, irritably. “He got the sour end of a bad contract, through his own stupidity. He’s blaming me for it, and somehow I don’t think he’s come to negotiate with me.”

“I see.” Charles pursed his lips. A year ago he might have pointed out that, should Erik wish to avoid situations like this, he could just not do bad contracts with ignorant people. But, then, that was a year ago. He’d learned more about the business than he ever imagined he would; but if Erik’s funding for his company came from manipulating ignorant racists and anti-mutant supremacists, Charles could live with himself.

The lobby was almost empty, and he found the man in question instantly as they stepped out of the lift. His mind was a jumble of anger and grotesque images and fantasies- not the nicest start to his Christmas holiday.

_He’s going to pull his gun on you when you’re alone in your office and threaten you. Death or you give him his money back. Oh, now he’s rather hoping he can take the both of us out. He thinks if he threatens me, you’ll pay more._

_Oh this really is a shame._ Erik’s voice was a dry commentary in his head.

“Hello Mr Kelly, and a very merry Christmas to you.” Erik said charmingly to the man, extending his hand. Kelly took it, shaking it limply, in precisely the way Charles knew would make Erik shudder with disgust.

“Merry Christmas to you too, Mr Lehnsherr.”

“Oh, didn’t I mention?” Erik’s charming smile evaporated. “I’m Jewish. And I’m a mutant, if you weren’t already aware. Would you just look at that?” He took the metal in Kelly’s watch and dragged his hand behind his back, his gun flying from his pocket and into Erik’s outstretched hand seamlessly.

_Do you really have to do this now, darling? He’s an idiot, but he’s not that much of a threat._

“You’re very lucky that my boyfriend is here, Mr Kelly, or you’d already have a hole in your head. On the other hand, my protégé  _is_ here, and he doesn’t take threats to Charles very lightly, do you Alex?”

“No, boss.” Alex replied, dutifully. This was also true- Alex was loyal to Erik in a way that was almost tangible- superior to everything else but Alex’s own little brother. But he _liked_ Charles and respected him, and that in itself was enough to kill for him - apparently.

In the space of a second, both Alex, and Sean - from nowhere, appeared at either side of Kelly and began dragged him into the backroom – the man kicking and shouting, red in the face, for help.

Erik extended his arm with a bland domesticity. “Lunch, Charles?”

“That was particularly callous, Erik. You must not have slept well last night.”

“Of course I didn’t. You were away.” Erik said, as though that was the most obvious thing on earth. It wasn’t he'd thought at first, but the realisation hit him suddenly that he’d never slept well without Erik either. They’d barely been apart in a year, but the few occasions they had been- arguments or the like- he’d blamed poor sleep on adrenaline or other stresses. Last night, at Raven’s, they’d stayed up ridiculously late and wine had helped him drift off too. But of course he’d felt strange without Erik wrapped around him, or without that constant infernal tapping of his phone as he texted his way through managing a crime syndicate.

Janos was driving, as usual. His mind was a familiar certainty and always reassuring. Charles got into the back of the car with Erik, picking up chatter about Raven.

“- She asked after you, anyway. Well, she asked if you’d done anything to hurt me recently. Honestly, I think she’s warming to you.”

“As long as I don’t shoot you in the head or accidentally get any of your limbs broken this year, I’m sure she’ll be showering me with presents come next Christmas.” Erik wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in close.

“Ow- shit!” Charles pulled back quickly, retracting his hand away from where it had been lain on Erik’s chest. “Erik- do you have metal in your pocket?” He asked, wafting his hand in the air quickly. Something fiercely hot had burned him, he was sure of it- it bloody hurt.

“Oh, no- I, sorry, I didn’t know I was doing that- shit-“ He hissed, as though only just feeling the burn himself. “Crap. Are you okay. I’m sorry, Charles, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“I’m fine. It just shocked me. Jesus, what even is it?” He asked, looking to Erik’s pocket suspiciously. Whatever it was, it had gotten stupidly hot and it hurt! More worryingly, though, Erik was distracted and worried enough himself not to noticed that something was burning through his suit jacket.

“Verdmammt.” He groaned, reaching into his pocket. “It’s your- one of your- presents. I was saving it for actual Christmas. Or London, if you’d decided you wanted to go. I’m not sure. I put it in my pocket this morning and I didn’t realise I was even doing anything to the metal. I’m sorry, Charles.”

“What is it, Erik?” He asked, laughing in concern.

“An engagement ring.”

And suddenly, Charles had stopped laughing. His face fell flat and his heart hammered in his chest.

“What?” If he could feel his face, he was certain he looked like a dead fish. As it happened, he felt nothing but the pounding in his chest. Everything else was numb and distant, like a dream.

“I just put it in my pocket. I didn’t mean to. Alex walked in on me and I didn’t want him to find out so I just dropped it in my pocket. I realised when I was sat in your office just then- I must have let my worry that you’d find it get to the metal- I’m sorry, Charles- this isn’t-“

“Erik!” He interrupted the rambling man, almost failing to comprehend the pace of his unnecessary explanation. “I mean- why?”

“I don’t know.” Erik looked at him with painfully bright eyes. “I just love you. I saw it a few weeks ago and I bought it, and I knew I would ask you eventually because you’re Charles. You fascinate me. You make everything matter.” He paused, reaching into his pocket. The ring he pulled out was stone cold and beautiful, simple and elegant and Charles was damned sure it was some specific compound and designed entirely by Erik.

“Merry Christmas, Schatz.” Erik said, finally, holding out the ring. His movement was tentative- a part of him was scared Charles would reject him. The more intelligent part was trying to look charmingly arrogant, and rightfully so.

“Happy December, Erik.” Charles replied, taking the ring and sliding it on without a moment’s hesitation. “Of course I’ll marry you.” He added, catching a brief glimpse of a grin on Erik’s face so wide it must have hurt, before their lips crushed together. Erik tasted like mint and felt divine and, when Charles lifted a hand to Erik’s head, he almost snorted rather unromantically as he remembered the Christmas hat that sat atop his head.

Erik’s eyes were alight with mirth as he yanked the hat away and dropped it to the floor of the car. “It served its purpose.” Was all he said, before he sought to return to his task of making Charles come undone, and succeeding brilliantly.


End file.
